Bridesmaid
by violet-phoenix-rose
Summary: Luna's a bridesmaid in Ginny's wedding. This is her sarcastic version of what happened. No pairings mentioned.


Disclaimer: I own nothing. The characters belong to JKR; the plot is loosely based on something that happened to me.

A/N: this is for the HP Fanfic Challenges forum's Weddings challenge.

I didn't want to be in Ginny's wedding, but I had no choice. So there I was, wearing the world's worst bridesmaid dress. I looked like an ice-blue cupcake, the shoes were two sizes too small, and Ginny didn't let me wear my radish earrings. I was 19, and I was stuck.

"Luna?" Hermione's voice jolted me out of my grouch mood for a second. "Are you okay?"

"Okay?" I was in shock. "How the heck could I be okay while wearing this getup?"

"Ditch the shoes under the buffet table," Hermione ordered. "The dress is floor-length for a reason. Come on, I'm playing wedding planner as well as maid of honor for a reason."

Hermione didn't look like a cupcake. How she got a more dignified dress than I did is beyond me, but I'll say this much – I wouldn't have been harping about the dress color or the shoes if I hadn't been wearing a dress that made my backside look around double its actual size and had lace in all the wrong places. _Just chill_, I told myself as I put my shoes under the buffet table. _Two hours from now, I'll be changing into street clothes again and this dress will be nothing more than an unpleasant memory._

"Luna!" This time it's George, who got to be an usher. I'd have rather done that than have been a bridesmaid. "Get over here. Now!"

I slip into the procession and things immediately begin to go wrong. Even though Ginny swore that at least two of her brothers had attacked the lawn, it was bumpy in the area I had to walk down. Before I was halfway done, I tripped, fell, and sent my bouquet flying. Due to the lack of smaller kids, I was carrying the wedding ring. _Big mistake, Ginny_, I think as I stumble back up.

"Where the heck is the wedding ring?" Ginny grew madder by the second. The grass hadn't been mowed anywhere. "Just find it. Now."

Muggles often refer to brides who freak out as Bridezillas. At that point, I knew exactly where the term came from. Without knowing what I was doing, I dashed to the shed and pulled out an item that no proper Wizarding family would have near their house – a metal detector.

"What's that?" several people asked as I blindly moved it over the area where I fell. A beeping noise told me what I needed to know – the wedding ring had turned up.

"Here you go," I said as I handed it to a panic-stricken Ginny. From there, I glided to my place – about as far from Ginny as I could be while still obviously being a bridesmaid. That day was turning into a nightmare.

The reception went better – a lot better, if you ask me. I didn't dance, since I'd already showcased my accident-prone nature enough for one afternoon. I did, however, toast the bride at exactly the wrong time. My true nature shone through even with my good intentions.

Two hours into the reception, I decided that enough was enough and that it was time to go back to my flat. That day was one of the first that having passed my Apparation test on my first try counted as one of my finest accomplishments. In a minute, I was safe in my bedroom and changing out of the dress.

I didn't live down my bridesmaid disaster, though. Even though his brother's death had made him more contemplative, George Weasley was never the sort to be sweet to someone like me. Someone had photographs of my accident, and once George got his hands on them, I had to spend about a month in my flat, hiding from people.

So I guess Ginny's wedding was all right, if you disregard what I did. She didn't tease me about it, which was probably the truest gesture of friendship that I ever saw from her. Someone, probably Ginny's mum, torched the photographs about a week after George found them.

Maybe I don't believe in happily ever after. I certainly don't believe in disaster-free weddings. But there is a part of me that says that love is something worth celebrating and remembering, even when one of the bridesmaids loses the ring.


End file.
